Story Goes Wrong
by Kerialla
Summary: A Buffy/Rent crossover --> I think I'm making history with this one. If you want to know what it's about you'll have to read. Please review.


Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. They either belong to Joss Whedon or the Jonathan Larson estate, respectively. The title and the line at the beginning of each chapter are from a song written by Matt Caplan. What the song is about has absolutely nothing to do with what the story is about, but it seemed to fit anyway.  
A/N: This story takes place after the episode "Storyteller" of Buffy. It also takes place several years (I don't know exactly how many) after Rent's end.  
  
That said, read on if you dare.  
  
CHAPTER ONE  
  
*The darker the fable, the less I was able to lie*  
  
Buffy finished dusting the vampire she was fighting and looked around. She had the eerie feeling that she was being watched. As she casually brushed the dust of the former vamp off her pants, she scanned the area. Certainly now of all times she couldn't be caught unawares if something else was there to assault her. Her eyes caught someone hidden behind the shadows. She saw a glint. Was that a. . .camera lens?  
  
"Andrew." She said testily. "I thought you weren't going to. . ." she trailed off as she came closer and saw that the guy was not Andrew at all, not even the slightest resemblance. And he looked like someone had just dragged him all the way through hell and back. Actually. . .as Buffy took a second glance at him. . .perhaps they'd left him there.  
  
He took the camera away from his eye, and pleaded with her, "Don't hurt me."  
  
His clothes were dirty, and in a couple places, torn. He had brown hair all in a mess on the top of his head and it appeared that he hadn't shaved in about a week. He wore black, thick-framed glasses that were cracked in one lens and completely missing the other, through which she could see one bright blue eye staring right back at her. The only thing about his person which was not in complete disarray was his camera, which, very unlike the digital one Andrew had used, was a 16mm movie camera with actual film and a handle to wind it.  
  
When Buffy didn't respond, the man whimpered slightly and crumpled to his hunches on the ground, cradling his camera in his arms like it was a baby. His eyes turned downcast and he looked as if he might cry.  
  
"I won't hurt you," Buffy finally said. "I promise."  
  
The man looked up and his glasses had slid down his nose. On reflex, he put the camera into one hand and then shoved his glasses back up with the thumb and forefinger of his other. "What just happened to that guy?" he asked, his voice shaking.  
  
Buffy looked back to where she had just dusted the vamp. "That's a really long story," she told him. She didn't know what else to say, what else to do. Nothing was coming to her. On the one hand, this guy was a complete stranger who had been filming her for a reason she didn't know. On the other hand, if she just left him there. . .she didn't know, but he looked in really bad shape and that made her almost afraid of what might happen to him if she just left him.  
  
"I'm Buffy Summers," she told him, stalling for time. "And you are?"  
  
It seemed to take a moment for her words to register in his head, until finally he answered her. "Mark Cohen."  
  
She put out a hand to help him off the ground. At first he just looked at it. Then, hesitantly, he took it and raised himself up. Once his was on his feet, he made the same gesture to fix the position of his glasses as he did before.  
  
Now that she was standing so close to him, Buffy could see that he was thin and short for a guy, but not extremely so, making it so that he still stood several inches higher than her. His features were not anything approaching stunning, but somehow worked all together on his face so that if he wasn't so messed up, he might be cute.  
  
They stared at each other.  
  
"Do you need some help?" Buffy ventured. Still battling in her mind what to do with this strange situation. Vampires she knew how to handle. This. . .  
  
"No one can help me." The words were barely audible.  
  
"Look. . .Mark," Buffy tried, "you never know." She ventured a smile, but didn't know if it was helping at all. This wasn't exactly her forte.  
  
"I really don't want to talk about it," Mark told her. His eyes welled up, but he blinked the tears away.  
  
Buffy was becoming more and more perplexed with each passing second. This guy was obviously under a whole ton of emotional stress and definitely needed help. But emotional problems weren't really ones that Buffy could solve. She had enough baggage herself without anyone else to deal with.  
  
"I think I'm going insane," Mark continued a bit. "I don't know where I'm going, I don't even know what I'm doing here." He sighed a deep remorseful sigh that seemed to fill the air with the pure misery of its presence.  
  
Looking back on it, Buffy had no idea how she ended up inviting him to come back with her to the house. But she did, and that was just something else that became another part of history that she could never change.  
  
When they entered the house, Mark was stared at from all corners of the room. He looked at the ground as though to avoid eye contact with every single one of them. "Why don't you girls. . .go practice," Buffy suggested. The potentials took a minute to look around at each other, but then did as they were told.  
  
"Why don't you go make some tea," Willow said to Dawn. The minute Mark walked in the door Willow had felt it. A blast of pure misery had punched her in the face. She'd never felt anything like it before and it was all radiating off this guy that had just walked in the front door.  
  
"You can sit," Buffy said to him.  
  
Mark looked at her, and then walked over to the coach and sat, cross- legged. He hugged the camera to his chest like it was his only friend in the entire world. Almost more than that, more like it was the only thread that was connecting him to life. He went to fix the position of his glasses again.  
  
"You might want to get those fixed," Xander suggested.  
  
"What?" Mark seemed oblivious. Then he gently placed the camera in his lap and took the glasses off. "Oh." He laughed a laugh that was more like a cry. "You know that I didn't notice? I can't see a thing without them, but I didn't notice." He made that same laugh again, it almost hurt to hear.  
  
There was an uncomfortable silence. Not that the talk had been comfortable. There was something. . .off about the whole thing and everyone knew it. The balance that usually made it so easy to speak wasn't there anymore. Every word was strained.  
  
Dawn came back in. "I made some tea," she stated and offered it to him. She smiled and he actually smiled back at her. Although, it was more of an appreciative smile, the sadness still rang from his eyes.  
  
"You should probably get some rest after you finish," Buffy offered. Then she thought for a second. "Not that we have any spare rooms."  
  
"That's okay. I'm fine here," Mark told her.  
  
"Well, actually. . .there was someone sleeping there already."  
  
"Oh."  
  
"But you can for now. . .we'll work something out."  
  
There was that silence again. Deep and dark and unnerving. But this time Mark broke it. "If you don't mind, I'd like to be alone now."  
  
Buffy nodded. And the gang all left pretty much relieved that they wouldn't have to put up with. . .whatever that was. . .any longer. 


End file.
